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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26250373">To Find Your Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaskiersWolf/pseuds/JaskiersWolf'>JaskiersWolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misc Witcher Ship Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion In Love, Novigrad (The Witcher), One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:54:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26250373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaskiersWolf/pseuds/JaskiersWolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dandelion visits Priscilla after she was attacked on the streets of Novigrad.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaskier | Dandelion/Priscilla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misc Witcher Ship Prompts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the following prompt by bravelittlesunflower on Tumblr. "How about Jaskier/Dandelion visiting Priscilla when she was recovering from the attack to see how she was doing, and there’s lots of romantic fluff!! Please and thank you!!"</p><p>I hope there's enough romantic fluff! The prompt sort of led more to the hurt/comfort but I tried to get some cute moments in there too! &lt;3</p><p>Note: I normally write Geraskier so this was a first for me but I quite liked how it turned out. This is definitely game version of Dandelion rather than Netflix/books.</p><p>Edit: I ended up writing a couple of other parts so they'll be added on to this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dandelion straightened his hat as he stared up at Vilmerius Hospital. Then he grumbled and adjusted it again so it was tilted on his head. He cursed and adjusted it again, running his fingers through the long white feather. He sighed forlornly before pushing open the door, he’d been putting this visit off long enough. </p><p>He hadn’t meant to avoid the hospital after he’d left Priscilla the first night after her attack but seeing her, lying on the bed knowing she couldn’t even talk let alone sing. It had been too much. He knew how precious her voice was to her and he knew a thing or two about having one’s throat slashed open. </p><p>For a bard it was like a death sentence. </p><p>He slunk up the stairs, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible, just in case he chickened out and ran away. It wouldn’t be the first time. Perhaps Geralt would be waiting for him at the Chameleon. </p><p>No. That was a stupid thought. Geralt had only just left to find Ciri. He wouldn’t be back just yet. It would take weeks to travel to Skellige and back, at least. </p><p>He fiddled with the bunch of flowers in his hands. It was cliché but flowers were a symbol of romance for a reason, there was a reason he’d chosen Dandelion as his name. It was an apt name for a poet. </p><p>He’d chosen peonies for Priscilla, to wish her a speedy recovery. He’d tucked a red rose into the middle of the bouquet and his nerves were taking the brunt of that decision. He was used to flirting and he was good at it. He had volumes of poetry to prove it but this time felt different. Priscilla was different. For the first time in his life he could imagine staying for her, building a life together in Novigrad. He could sing, she could play the lute. They would be unstoppable. </p><p>With that thought lingering in his mind he bounded up the last few steps and into her room. She was sitting up in bed, her soft long blonde hair falling down past her shoulders. </p><p>He held out the flowers as he bowed to her, his hat almost falling off his head. He stumbled out of the bow and caught his hat, grinning sheepishly at Pricilla. She was laughing silently behind her hands.</p><p>“I got these for you.” He announced. “I’ll umm, find a vase or something.”</p><p>Priscilla shook her head. “Dandelion.” She croaked. </p><p>He abandoned the flowers on top of the dresser and knelt by her side. “Don’t talk, Priscilla.”</p><p>She frowned and crossed her arms in front of her chest. </p><p>“Do you have a notebook?” He asked. “Damn it. That would have been better than flowers.”</p><p>Priscilla rolled her eyes and put a hand on his arm. His heart thundered in his chest at her touch. “Like the flowers.” She whispered hoarsely. “Rose?” She asked.</p><p>He laughed nervously knowing he’d been caught. “Well, I thought seeing as you almost died, there’s no time like the present.”</p><p>She smiled fondly and beckoned him closer with a finger. He swallowed and leaned in, wondering where all his famed skills of seduction had gone. She kissed his cheek and he felt like he was going to swoon like one of the ladies from his ballads. <br/>
Was this what true love felt like?</p><p>To the gods he never wanted it to end. Who knew a kiss could mean so much?</p><p>He beamed back at the beautiful blonde who had stolen his heart. “Does that mean my affections are requited?” He asked hopefully, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together. </p><p>She smirked and shrugged. </p><p>“Wait what? What does that mean, Priscilla? Don’t you love me?” He pouted. </p><p>She squeezed his hand. “Need more than flowers.” She whispered with a twinkle in her eyes. </p><p>Dandelion laughed. “Oh of course, my sweet flower, my petal. I will bring you the moon, I will bring you the stars that dance across the night sky. I will slay giants and werewolves to prove myself to you.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Well, I might get Geralt to help with the last two.” He admitted. </p><p>She laughed but the actioned caused her to choke and his mouth snapped shut mid-ramble. He took her other hand in his and brought them to his lips. “I’m sorry it took me so long to visit, are you ok?”</p><p>She shrugged and looked up at him sadly. He wanted to burn the person that had put that sadness in her eyes. Priscilla had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen, richer than the deepest ocean, brighter than the sky on a summer’s day. Those eyes were made to shine with radiant joy, not with tears of sorrow. </p><p>The bastard would pay for harming his Priscilla. </p><p>Well, they would if Geralt hadn’t already dealt with it. </p><p>He hoped they died a slow and painful death. </p><p>“Until you can sing, I will be your voice, my dove.” He vowed. “Anything you want, anything at all.” </p><p>Priscilla tilted her head and ginned mischievously.</p><p>“What?” He asked, trying not to regret his vow already.</p><p>“Your lute?” She asked. </p><p>He froze. His lute? Filavandrel’s lute? Every inch of him was begging him to say no. That lute was his everything. It was the start of his adventures with Geralt. It was the source of his fame and the instrument that had birthed so many ballads. </p><p>Could he just give that up?</p><p>Then he remembered that Priscilla may never sing again. His lute for her voice. </p><p>“For you? Anything.” He repeated. “It’s at the Chameleon. I’ll bring it with me next time.”</p><p>Priscilla stared at him with wide eyes.</p><p>“You were joking about the lute weren’t you?” He chuckled and she nodded. “Well it’s yours, at least until you can sing again!” He decided. </p><p>He stayed by her bedside for hours, filling the silence with tales, mostly true, and poetry, mostly lies. She tried to talk a few times but her voice was too sore. He didn’t mind holding the conversation by himself though and pleaded with her to rest, but he understood why she couldn’t. </p><p>Bards and silence were never a good mix. </p><p>Eventually, in the middle of a definitely not accurate retelling of one of his early quests with Geralt, he noticed she hadn’t made a peep in a while. He furrowed his brow and look down at her. She’d slumped against her pillows and her eyes had fluttered shut. She had fallen asleep. </p><p>He boldly pressed his lips against her forehead and brushed her hair from her eyes. </p><p>“Sleep well, my love.” He murmured before fleeing the room. </p>
<hr/><p>He visited Priscilla more frequently after that. It was like he couldn’t stay away. Zolton cursed him every time he left. He supposed he had been neglecting his cabaret and tavern recently but Priscilla’s well-being was more important than a former whorehouse! After about a week of conversing with paper and a quill, Priscilla was able to speak without flinching anymore. </p><p>“Dandelion, two nights in a row. That’s almost a commitment.” She teased as he swept through her door. </p><p>Her voice was still rough and coarse but at least it was there. He knew recovering her sweet dulcet soprano tones would be a long recovery. If it was even possible but he prayed to every god that he knew that one day she would sing again. She would probably never be truly happy until she could. </p><p>He bowed with a flourish and winked. “You sound better, Priscilla.” </p><p>She smiled sadly with a tilt of her head. “I haven’t spoken all day.”</p><p>Dandelion pulled at the lacy cuffs of his chemise that were poking out the end of his silky purple doublet and laughed. “Why, my dear Priscilla, were you saving your voice for me?” He teased as he flopped into the chair next to her bed. </p><p>“I couldn’t bear to hear you talk anymore.” She smirked.</p><p>He gasped and put his hand to his chest. “Priscilla! You wound me.”</p><p>She laughed and put her hand on his. “Your ego is large enough, Dandelion, without me stroking it.”</p><p>He grinned his mouth to respond but she put a finger on his lips. </p><p>“Don’t say it.” She glared at him but he saw the half smile dancing on her lips. </p><p>He captured her hand in his and kissed her palm. “I am a poet, my darling. I would never say something so crass.” </p><p>She scoffed. “Pull the other one, Dandelion.”</p><p>He winked and she swatted him over the head. His hat dropped into his lap and he pouted. “Hey!”</p><p>She giggled and placed his hat back on his head with a fond smile and kissed his cheek. “There we go, no damage done.” </p><p>He tilted his head and smiled dopily at her. She really did have the most beautiful eyes. He cupped her face in his hands and closed the gap between them so there was barely a breath separating their lips. </p><p>“May I?” He whispered. </p><p>She didn’t answer, instead she leant forward to capture his lips with her own. </p><p>Oh and it was heaven. She hadn’t just captured his lips, she had captured his heart, his soul. </p><p>She pulled away and the kiss ended just as quickly as it started. Dandelion fell forward, following her lips and she laughed. “I won’t become one of your conquests, Dandelion.” She smirked as she poked his nose.</p><p>He scrunched his nose up and squeaked. “I do not have conquests!” He pouted. “I have lovers. It’s hardly my fault that I fall in love easily.”</p><p>“You fall out of it just as easily.” Priscilla noted. “No, don’t protest. I know you, Dandelion.”</p><p>He huffed. “But with lips as sweet as yours, my flower, how could I forget you?”</p><p>Priscilla raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Honied words will get you everywhere.” </p><p>“Said one poet to another.” He laughed and moved in for another kiss but she covered his lips with her finger.</p><p>“Sing for me, Dandelion.” She asked with a tilt of her head. </p><p>He pouted at the loss of her kiss but gathered up his lute from the corner of the room. He offered her the instrument but she shook her head and pushed the instrument back into his hands. </p><p>“I’m tired.” She said hoarsely and cleared her throat. “Play for me.”</p><p>So he did. He cooed a soft heartwarming ballad of romance and true love. The lute sang under his fingers and he closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, pouring his heart into every breath. </p><p>His eyes flashed open when he heard a low hum from the bed. Priscilla was quietly adding a deeper harmony under his melody. She had her eyes close and was smiling serenely. His voice wavered at the rush of emotions in his heart but he had decades of practice and managed to cover his mistake. Priscilla only managed a verse before coughing into her hands with a groan. </p><p>He finished the song as quickly as he could without it losing its beauty and put the lute to one side. </p><p>“Patience, my petal.” He cooed. “You’ll get there.” </p><p>She pouted and hid behind a curtain of blonde hair. “What if I never sing again?” She croaked.</p><p>Dandelion kissed the top of her hair. “I have friends who can help. I promise you, I’ll do all that I can.”</p><p>“Yennefer?” Priscilla asked quietly. </p><p>He nodded. “She saved my voice when the djinn attacked. I’m sure she can help you too.”</p><p>Priscilla sighed dramatically, as all poets were fond of doing and rested her head against his shoulder. “I hope you’re right, Dandelion.”</p><p>He stroked her hair and sighed. “I am. I promise.”</p><p>He settled onto the bed next to her and she curled up against his chest. He stroked her hair and hummed a soft lullaby under his breath until she fell asleep. He laughed under his breath as he watched the soft rise and fall of her chest. Gods he was in so unbelievably in love with her. </p><p>She was wrong. He wouldn’t fall out of love easily, not this time. This time was the last time that Dandelion the bard would in love. He was sure of it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This second part was requested as a song prompt on <a href="https://jaskierswolf.tumblr.com/post/631799852392677376/congratulations-on-your-new-follower-milestone">tumblr</a>. The song is 'And I Love Her' by the Beatles. There is also reference to "The Fool on the Hill' also by the Beatles.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dandelion adjusted his hat before strutting out onto the small stage he’d had built in the Chameleon. Normally he preferred to let other performers take the stage in his cabaret but tonight was different. Tonight, Priscilla would be performing. He glanced back behind the curtain where she was waiting with his precious elven lute in her hands. She still struggled to talk, let alone sing, after the attack on the streets of Novigrad so her opening performance at the Chameleon would be a duet.</p>
<p>Their first duet.</p>
<p>He relished in the romanticism of it all. The wounded maiden made whole again by her lover’s song. He could’t have written it any better himself. Well, he probably could have and he probably would. Once Priscilla had her voice back he was immortalise the entire saga on the page, in a beautiful melody composed especially for her divine vocal talents. Until then, he was her voice and she was his lute. Well, not his lute. That wasn’t exactly the most flattering of images and she would probably make him eat his hat if she knew he’d even thought it. He would have to come up with something better but these things took time. For now, he would focus on their performance.</p>
<p>“Beloved audience!” He announced with a flourish, delighting in the way his bright silk clothing sparkled in the light of the candles. “Thank you so much for joining me tonight at the Chameleon!”</p>
<p>There was a cheer and a thunder of hands banging on the tables.</p>
<p>“Get on with it!” Zolton cried from behind the bar.</p>
<p>“All in good time, my friend!” Dandelion winked at the dwarf and then gestured widely to his audience. “Now, as you all may know. I am the owner of this fine establishment, but tonight I will be regaling you with a performance of my own!”</p>
<p>Another cheer from the audience.</p>
<p>“But I couldn’t do it alone. Oh no, for you see I appear to have lost my lute!” He cried in mock despair.</p>
<p>“Lost his marbles, more likely.” Zolton grumbled from the bar as he cleaned the glasses with a cloth.</p>
<p>Dandelion shot the dwarf a sharp glare this time but didn’t rise to the bait. “Luckily!” He continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all. “The beautiful Callonetta is here to help. We simply cannot have a cabaret without music, after all! Please, raise your glasses and welcome my darling, Callonetta to the stage!”</p>
<p>The audience roared and Priscilla stepped out. She was clutching his lute in her hands and, for the first time since he’d known her, she looked to be nervous about performing. One hand reached up to the red scarf around her neck, a present he’d bought her to cover up the scarring.</p>
<p>“Are you ready?” He asked, feeling a rush of adrenaline flow through his veins. He couldn’t help the toothy smile on his face. It had been ages since he’d performed like this. More recently his performances had been more of a private matter whilst he focussed on Priscilla’s recovery.</p>
<p>She nodded with a gentle smile before she turned to face the audience, fingers on lute strings. She played the opening notes, capturing the audience under her spell, before Dandelion took a deep breath and began to sing.</p>
<p>It was a quiet sort of song, probably out of place in the Chameleon but he had absolutely insisted that their first duet would be one of love. She’d laughed at him and called him a sentimental idiot. He had to agree but how could he be anything else when she kissed him so sweetly. He would play the fool forever more as long as he was allowed to keep kissing her.</p>
<p>But alas, he was a poet and part of the performance was to seduce his audience, not his love. So he winked and flirted his way through the performance, kissing one lucky lady’s hand during a break in his melody. He enjoyed it. He may feel guilty about it later but he enjoyed having the opportunity to flash a smile and a wink at his gorgeous audience.</p>
<p>There was one line that he knew would be Priscilla’s so at the start of the stanza he twirled around on his heels to face her. He almost stammered over his words as he caught her eyes. They were more gorgeous than anything he’d ever seen, shining blue sapphires framed by radiant blonde locks. To all the gods he loved her, he loved her more than he ever had before.</p>
<p>“A love like ours<br/>Could never die”</p>
<p>He cooed softly, brushing his fingers along her cheek bone and delighting in the blush that bloomed on her pale skin.</p>
<p>“As long as I<br/>Have you near me.”</p>
<p>He winked at her and turned back to the audience for the rest of the song. They clapped and whistled loudly as the song drew to a close.</p>
<p>“Dandelion.” Priscilla whispered as the bowed together, hand in hand. “That wasn’t what we rehearsed!”</p>
<p>Dandelion just smirked. “Was it not, my love?” He winked and kissed her hand. “I hadn’t noticed.”</p>
<p>“You’re a fool, Dandelion.” She laughed as they bowed for a final time.</p>
<p>“A fool on the hill.” He murmured as a wave of inspiration hit him. “I should write that down.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their duet at the Chameleon had been a raging success. Dandelion wasn’t surprised. Both of them had wonderfully prominent solo careers. Whilst Dandelion’s was arguably more wide spread with his time travelling around the Continent with Geralt, Priscilla had, before the accident, been the most in demand soprano for any event worth its coin. He was proud of them, of her. It couldn’t have been easy for her not being able to sing but she persevered. Their act became a regular and highly anticipated event at his cabaret. It was bringing in more and more clients each week. Zolton was almost tearing is beard off trying to man the bar whilst Dandelion was on stage with Priscilla.</p>
<p>The best part was she was slowly regaining her singing voice. She could now talk almost as well before. Her voice was more gravelly and her range was severely reduced but she could hold a note without coughing. They were getting there.</p>
<p>Their relationship seemed to be going pretty well as well despite what a certain witcher might think. Yes ok, maybe there was a slight buzz under his skin that was telling him to run away from Novigrad. The wanderlust that was calling him back to the road but he loved Priscilla, he was sure of it. Maybe once she was fully recovered they could tour the Continent together. Plus with the mages gone from Novigrad he was starting to get peculiar looks in the street. The Eternal Fire had started going after non-humans and just like in Rivia all those years ago, people often made assumptions about him due to his elf like features.</p>
<p>So maybe his wanderlust wasn’t such a bad thing after all.</p>
<p>He hummed thoughtfully under his breath as he waited outside the Chameleon. Priscilla was due to meet him there and she was late. He bounced from one foot to another, wishing he had his lute with him. His fingers were itching for something to do so he planted both hands on his hips to keep himself from fiddling.</p>
<p>“Dandelion.” Priscilla called.</p>
<p>His gazed searched the crowds in the street until he saw the long golden hair of his lover, and to all the gods did she look beautiful. He skipped over to her and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lip. “My dear Priscilla.” He greeted her with a bow.</p>
<p>She laughed and snatched her hand away. “Don’t you ever change?”</p>
<p>He pouted and looked down at his outfit. He supposed he had worn his vibrant pink, and purple ensemble quite a lot recently but that was his way whenever he bought new clothes. He made a note to visit Elihal before leaving Novigrad. He probably was due new clothes.</p>
<p>“Are you ready for our date?” He asked instead.</p>
<p>Priscilla gestured to her own outfit. A soft sky blue dress that fell to her ankles with a belt tied around her waist. She looked like a nymph or some other kind of ethereal creature, which was just perfect for what he had planned. They were to go and watch the sunset up on a nearby hill. He’d packed a hamper for food and wine, copious amounts of wine, and he was pretty proud of it all.</p>
<p>“You look absolutely divine, my love.” He told Priscilla, brushing his lips against her cheek. “A goddess would be jealous of your beauty.”</p>
<p>Priscilla shoved him in the chest. “You and your poetry.” She teased with a roll of her eyes, although there was a playful smile dancing on her lips so he knew he wasn’t in trouble.</p>
<p>“It’s not poetry. It’s fact.” He replied with a wink. “Now if you would like to follow me, my petal.”</p>
<p>He picked up the hamper and they were off. The walk to the hills outside of Novigrad was uneventful and thankfully free of any sort of monsters. If Geralt were here they would have inevitably stumbled upon a rogue wyvern or griffin or something monstrous that was trying to kill them but today the path was quiet.</p>
<p>“You really do look beautiful.”  He hummed as they clinked wine glasses. Priscilla smiled a radiant smile that took his breath away and then snuggled up against his side.</p>
<p>Oh if he could remain in any moment, to the gods that moment was it. The sun large and orange as it journeyed towards the horizon, Priscilla dressed like a dream and his favourite red wine in hand.</p>
<p>“Am I just a pretty picture for you to enjoy, Dandelion?” She teased as she pulled off his hat. “Beauty fades.”</p>
<p>“Never yours.” He vowed.</p>
<p>“I’ll go grey.” She hummed.</p>
<p>He laughed and captured a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Grey hair is still beautiful. Look at Geralt.”</p>
<p>She sighed. “Point taken, what about wrinkles? You seem to never age a day, Dandelion.”</p>
<p>“Every wrinkle tells a story, my darling.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I will be there for every one, if you’ll let me.”</p>
<p>Priscilla hummed and leaned into his caress. “Careful, Dandelion. That sounds almost like a proposal.”</p>
<p>That thought made him pause.</p>
<p>Marriage? With Priscilla. Sure he’d probably had more fiancées that Ciri had had birthdays but… marrying Priscilla?</p>
<p>Wasn’t that a thought….</p>
<p>Could he really marry and settle down?</p>
<p>He licked his lips and sipped his wine absentmindedly. By human standards he was already considered a life long bachelor and he’d never minded that. He enjoyed being a bachelor. He enjoyed dating and new love. It was the never-ending source for his inspiration.</p>
<p>“Don’t think too hard, Dandelion.” Priscilla cupped his cheek and he blinked a couple of times. “It was a joke.”</p>
<p>“A joke.” He repeated. “Maybe, maybe.”</p>
<p>Priscilla sighed and leaned into his chest as they watched the last light of the sun fade from view. “I know you, Dandelion. You are not the marrying kind.”</p>
<p>He pouted even though she couldn’t see. “I could be.”</p>
<p>She shook her head. “No, but that’s no matter. I love you and I know you love me.”</p>
<p>“More than anything.” He vowed and kissed her hair.</p>
<p>“And for now, that’s enough. We’re enough.” She breathed and as the stars began to shine in the night sky Dandelion couldn’t help but agree.</p>
<p>“We are enough.” He whispered against her hair. “My gorgeous Callonetta.”</p>
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